When Berwald met Tino
by Mtv-chan
Summary: This is a story about when Berwald and Tino met for the first time, but somebody else is there making things hard for them!  It's not exactly according to history, but that would be impossible to write, so it's really just a fun thing!  Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. It belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz. **

* * *

**Part 1**

It was a cloudy afternoon when Berwald jumped aboard his ship to sail across the ocean to the east. He didn't know what laid there but wanted to – and had to – find out seeing as his Scandinavian neighbour in the south always caused him trouble. Their kings kept going to war for landmasses and thrones. For now the Danish Kingdom ruled Scania but Berwald had heard that his king was planning on taking it and make it Swedish, but first he wanted Berwald to go to the east and hopefully discover something to the Swedish advantage.

Out on the sea it got sunnier and warmer for every hour that passed but eventually he could glimpse land. The closer to land the small ship moved the more could be determined about it; a lot of trees, no civilization as far as the eye could reach, silent and untouched. There seemed to be no other settlers around here, but who knew how big this place was.

What could this place be?

When he stepped ashore he looked up at the clear blue sky and saw the golden sun about to set. He wondered if this place belonged to anyone. In any case he wanted it. It was beautiful.

Leaving his vessel tied firmly to a secure tree the tall blond walked into the dense forest without finding any trails. The ground under his feet felt soft and a little moist, as if it had been raining recently. Every now and then a fallen twig gave in and cracked under his weight. He walked for quite some time before he, as if having a sixth sense, stopped and spared a moment to actually look at the mossy ground beneath him. A cone lay peacefully in a footprint that was significantly smaller than Berwald's own. A human footprint. Berwald's eyes followed their trail to the left and then peeked to see if there was anything within eyesight. It was dead silent, safe for a foreign bird calling for a mate, but the Swede couldn't stop sweeping his gaze along the trees in the direction of the footprints because he knew he was not their creator.

Half a second later his blue eyes registered a movement among the thick stems, far ahead. Whatever or _whoever _it was, they were quick! Immediately Berwald hurried in the direction he had seen the swift cloud of light colours move.

He panted as he kept on chasing the other person, determined to catch him or her, but said stranger was much faster and obviously used to these woods. They kept confusing Berwald by running in their own footprints and taking turns around stems and rocks, hiding and turning back when Berwald had already passed them without realizing until it was too late. No, if he wanted to catch up with this person he had to predict their movements and put some of his trust on luck, because it was obvious that just blindly chasing them would do no good. He stopped and caught his breath while quickly analysing his surroundings. Standing in a small grove he had trees surrounding him and no idea which direction north was. Judging by where he assumed the sun was he was standing with his nose pointing west, but he wasn't certain. Whoever was in the forest with him was running around in circles, Berwald was sure of that now. He was caught like prey, yet he kept his ground without as much as flinching, trying to predict where to go next to lure the other presence.

Again it was silent. Not the smallest noise was heard and Berwald wondered if the person had stopped or simply moved as quietly as an eagle flew. Either way he again quickly analysed his situation and surroundings. There were only trees nearby; he didn't see any rocks or hills, just plain ground with thick stems everywhere. They had left the mossy ground already and he now stood on solid dirt instead. The ground was nothing in particular, but it was in a way strangely pleasant to stand on it.

Berwald took one step forward, aiming for one of the bigger stems where he would begin his own cat and mouse game, but before even being able to put his foot down he felt something cold and sharp touch the back of his neck. The stranger spoke to him in a foreign language that Berwald could not understand. The voice indicated that this person was young.

Young and with a sword.

Berwald wasn't scared at all, even though he had to admit he had been surprised. He sighed but not loud enough for his captor to notice.

Again the boy spoke to him, this time it sounded like he was commanding him. His language was nothing like Berwald's own. Neither was it Latin or Slavic. It was different and to the Swede it sounded kind of cosy and soft, yet firm.

He turned around and was met by a significantly shorter boy holding a sword steadily against the Swede's throat. His eyes looked at him with a burning will to defend himself at all costs. Violet, passionate eyes.

Again he spoke in his foreign language. It sounded like he was asking something. "Kuka olet?" This time he seemed a little milder.

"I d'n't 'nderst'nd."

The boy's face suddenly changed. He now looked almost nervous or even uncomfortable. To Berwald it was nothing uncommon for people to suddenly get unpleasant in his presence. Sometimes he didn't even need to speak, but he was pretty sure that this time he hadn't been frowning at the boy – just kept his calmest expression – and therefore the little blond didn't begin to feel nervous until Berwald spoke. However, he quickly tried to hide his fears and the blade of the sword was still placed close to Berwald's throat as a reminder who was in charge.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice determined but mild. The accent reminded him of the language he had earlier spoken, that softness. It could be compared to a a bag filled with clear water.

"N'me's Sw'd'n", he replied truthfully.

After a little while the boy eased up a bit and straightened his back, still with a questionable face expression. No matter how much he probably tried he didn't look all that intimidating according to Berwald. It actually seemed like he wanted to lower the sword now that they were half acquaintances.

"Why are you here?"

There was no need to be dishonest, really. "I w'nt th's l'nd."

* * *

Here's my first chapter! I hope you enjoyed it! :)

**Translations:**  
_Kuka olet? = Who are you?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. It belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz. **

**

* * *

**

**Part 2**

To be honest, Tino had a hard time understanding his uninvited visitor. He was muttering, mumbling, leaving out too many vowels. Tino liked vowels, liked them so much that sometimes he put several of them after one another... not that he didn't like to put double consonants as well, but that wasn't important. This one spoke with an incredibly brief set of sounds. Tino wasn't even certain who he said he was. 'Swdn', what was that? He didn't recognize it. Perhaps he hadn't even told him who he was? But he must have. Instead of panicking he would pretend like he knew what was happening. Or, well, he would when he asked more about whether he was a friend or a foe and what his business here was. So far he only had almost a name and nothing more. He straightened his back and with great effort hardened his face. "Why are you here?"

There was a short pause when this 'Swdn' just stared down at him. Tino could read nothing from his face. Was he nervous? Was he considering what to say? Was he annoyed to still be threatened by a sword when all he probably had really come here for was to see the beauty of these forests? It was impossible to extract any information out of him by just examining him. Tino kept his eyes on the tall man and quickly noted that he wore royal blue robes, and so decided to call him 'Herra Sininen'. For now.

Bluntly he responded: "I w'nt th's l'nd."

It took a couple of moments for Tino to comprehend what had just been stated with such serene determination that it couldn't be a joke. As before he couldn't be completely confident he heard correctly but he thought that he had said that he _wanted this land._

Tino was dumbfounded and lost his concentration. He lowered his sword due to it being suddenly too heavy to carry. "Mitä?" he asked, his voice probably sounding a little too high-pitched.

The other one stared at him and all of a sudden looked much scarier than before. Maybe it was because the sword in his face was now missing. He seemed a little uncomfortable, as if it was awkward to repeat his exclamation, even though it was more likely that it was awkward for him to not understand the simple Finnish word.

Perhaps Tino had been wrong about what he said, but he wouldn't take any risks. Again he raised his blade to the air, pointing it towards the taller one's throat, and felt his annoyance grow. "You're not get-"

He was interrupted in his commanding as an axe was thrown right at his sword with such force that Tino believed his shoulder got dislocated. He lost his grip of the handle and looked around in panic to see what was going on. The white hot pain sprang from his shoulder and neck down his arm and all the way to his fingertips. Despite not wanting to he bit his lower lip to ease the agonizing pain.

So Herra Sininen brought friends, then? Tino cursed himself for not noticing anybody else. He was about to snarl something at the taller one but as soon as he saw his concerned and rather irritated face Tino realized that whoever threw the axe was not Herra Sininen's friend. Suddenly it felt very comforting to not be his enemy. Right now it was petrifying to just look at him. However, the little Finn was certain that even if he was much smaller than him and didn't possess that horrifying appearance he would actually be a good match.

A second later Herra Sininen's dark voice uttered one word very seriously:

"R'n."

Herra Sininen started to run towards North and was far away within seconds. Tino didn't even have any time to react but was not stupid enough to not put one and one together; the word the tall man had said to him was 'run' and so after blinking two or three times he hurried towards where his sword had flown, picked it up from the ground using his left hand and followed the man in blue with such haste he surprised himself. All around him he heard men laugh and speak in in a language unknown to him. They were everywhere. Tino had lost Herra Sininen while concentrating on the pain in his right arm, which was terrorising his entire body and mind. He felt dizzy as his head kept on pounding louder and louder. Heat spread from head to toe and nausea settled inside him, it was difficult to see and he tripped on roots and hit his knees on sharp stones but he wouldn't let go of his only means of defence – the sword.

Eventually his weight was too much for his heavy legs to carry and he dropped down next to a thick stem of a pine tree, leaning against it to catch his breath. His put down his sword close to him in case he'd need it, because right now he needed his left hand had to attend his injured arm. 'Could it really have been _that _hard of a blow?' he thought while closing his eyes to try to relax. To get all tense wasn't going to do him any good and since he heard neither voices nor laughter it made it easier for him to loosen up. Of course, the silence could always deceive you and Tino knew he'd had to stay alert.

It was difficult to stay awake because somehow he had managed to find a comfortable position to lie in. The pain eased as he didn't move his arm and his heartbeat calmed down. He felt very much at home there by the stem, protected by the forest. Even now that he was relatively safe he was wondering what had happened with Herra Sininen. Whether he was wounded or not. Several questions started popping up in Tino's head. Who were the men chasing them? Were they after Herra Sininen? Perhaps that had been why he was here, to find shelter. Though, Tino was pretty certain he had said that he wanted this land. Did he mean 'for protection'? 'He wanted this land _for protection_'? Maybe he just wasn't the person to explain everything at once. Or maybe he didn't know how to continue because his skills in the English language were poor.

_Crack. _

Tino's violet eyes rapidly opened again and he stared straight ahead of him but saw nothing. If he wasn't completely off the noise had come from behind him, where he couldn't focus his eyes. He kept his breath and listened intently, hoping that the stem would hide him. Someone was definitively there, he could hear the person breathe and registered their feet touch the ground even if it was very silent. The person was moving with precise caution and Tino prayed they hadn't already noticed him. Silent as a mouse his hand sneaked back to the sword handle and grasped it hard.

* * *

Second one! With love from Sweden~

**Translations:**  
_Herra Sininen = Mr. Blue  
Mitä? = What?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. It belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz. **

**

* * *

**

**Part 3**

"R'n", he advised the smaller one and quickly took off from where he was standing without realizing that he was outrunning the smaller blond male with his long strides. After running for only a short while he noticed that he had lost his new acquaintance, whatever his name was. He told himself that there was no point in searching for him; as far as he knew he'd been captured, even though that scenario was not very likely given the earlier chase.

Berwald stopped by a smaller rock and pressed himself against its hard surface, which was covered in stiffened, white lichen. He took a moment to catch his breath and organize his thoughts. Having the knowledge of Denmark being in the same woods as him he was sharp enough to draw his sword and stay focused by whatever means necessary. The more he thought of it the angrier he became. It was as if wherever he went Denmark would be there too, bothering and pestering him.

There was no use in lingering by that rock thinking about how annoying this whole situation was so Berwald decided to move on. He scanned every direction imaginable to make sure that no one was nearby before running off again.

Berwald missed running between stems as he got to a thicket but at least it was brighter. The light green trees occasionally cut his cheeks and gripped his clothes. Despite knowing that he had not walked through here when going into the forest he was still determined to see what was by the end of it. Perhaps he would encounter someone who knew the boy with the sword.

When he finally reached the end of the thicket he disappointedly had to find out that there was nothing of good use for him to find. All that was there was just a big sunflower field and beyond it was simply more leaf trees. The only good thing was that he was finally able to tell which way North was, and that it was the direction he just came from. In the West there was a huge rye field, as was it also in the East. The leaf forest seemed small and with all these fields someone had to live close by. With all these facts at hand and no other likeable alternative the man made his way out of the leaf foliage to look for someone who could help him.

A sudden flash of light hit his eyes and a second later there was a loud _cling_ as two blades impacted with each other, Berwald's being defensive. He immediately forced the other blade aside with all his strength and charged at his enemy. His attacker was not Denmark himself, but definitively one of his henchmen who must have been watching him all the time, just waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

The dark-haired Dane was skilled and moved very naturally while still fighting the much larger Swede, whose offence was lacking at the moment. Berwald found himself defending all the time. Face, legs, belly and chest. The brunette lunged forward with a roar, clearly aiming for Berwald's still intact stomach. He feinted aside and managed to cut deeply far up the enemy's arm which with all confidence would leave an ugly scar. They both stopped. Berwald still had his back pointing at his opponent, but he kept his head aside in order to see him. He was also standing with his back to him, tense with mistrust, not even bothering to keep track of his foe. His head was drooping, his gaze at his feet as he breathed heavily; Berwald noticed on his back going up and down violently. While Berwald kept his sword ready the Dane was holding it down. It was as if that one blow had been all it took to defeat him.

Out of nowhere an arrow shot through the air and hit Berwald's left shoulder. It mercilessly peeled off a piece of his skin as well as a part of the robe. With no time to sense the realness of the pain it brought him, Berwald dived back into the thicket and ran as fast as he could, again ignoring the branches that grasped his clothes and tore his skin.

As he got back to the forest he could hear footsteps behind him as arrows started howling through the air right beside him at regular intervals. One man commanded another, who would command someone else. Apparently there were three of them, the archer included. The pain in his shoulder was finally starting to get to him, making its presence acknowledged for every minute that passed. Excruciatingly it shot from his shoulder to his neck and through his collarbone. He wished now that the easterner would be there to apply help. Even if he wasn't that big and looked rather innocent Berwald felt confident in believing that another spirit lay underneath his somewhat childish face, with the soul-staring eyes of a young one and small physical structure. The same moment he decided that he should try to defend himself instead of running away an arrow hit him precisely in the hollow of his knee and for the first time in a long time he had scream at the sudden tormenting and burning feeling in one of the essential parts that he needed to run away and fight properly. He fell down to the ground but quickly tried to get back up. Tripping again – when not even halfway up – he instead just rolled around to his back and kept his sword at the ready. The Danes had stopped but were all looking at him with serious faces that shone of victory. On the left stood the archer, a bit farther away there was another one, holding a sword and by the farthest right was the man Berwald had been fighting by the sunflower field, who seemed to be especially thrilled about the nation's defeat.

Right after quickly pulling the arrow out - using all his will to smother his screams - a voice that was more than angering to Berwald dauntingly bellowed: "Oi, Sweden!"

* * *

Thank you for reading this far! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. It belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz. **

**

* * *

**

**Part 4**

Squeezing his hand around the sword handle, Tino was ready to strike and put the enemy out of action. He took a silent deep breath, quickly got up and without any difficulties or hesitation pierced the blade through the stranger's lower back, who didn't even have time to let out a scream; only fell to the ground with a bump, dropping his weapon that had been of little use to him now. It was an axe. The same axe that had been thrown at Tino and Herra Sininen, which had thankfully missed. Coming to think of it again, the Finn knew he had to fix his shoulder rather sooner than later. Leaving the body like that Tino ran away to find a safe spot to fix his throbbing upper arm. Since he knew the forest he made it to one of his favourite resting spots without incident. It was a large old tree you could climb up even with only one functional arm. For someone larger it was possible that the branches could crack under their weight but Tino was light enough to make it without making much noise. Putting his sword back into its sheath to have his hands free, the blond put on a determined expression and started climbing up the thick stem. When he felt that he had climbed high enough he sat down on one of the thicker branches and balanced himself, placing his left hand on the hurt shoulder. The gentle contact felt more as that of a hammer hitting him hard spot on the wounded limb rather than his small hand barely touching it. Breathing didn't help either; it only got the crushing feeling back. Taking a deep breath made him dizzy as the sharp and tearing pain stretched up to his head. He gripped harder paying no mind to the protests that his entire body was screaming to him. "Yks… kaks…" he began and then tightly knitted his eyes together. "…kol!"

It was over quicker than he imagined and he felt nothing tearing his flesh and nerve system apart any longer. The loud crack had been somewhat disgusting as incredible pain had shot through his entire arm but it was thankfully only for mere seconds. Tino took a deep breath to not collapse – or scream as as he had wanted to do for a long time now – and gathered his thoughts. He had to find Herra Sininen again. He didn't even know why, it was just one of those feelings. A feeling that it was important – perhaps stupid – but worth following. Maybe he needed help. It was the two of them against the offenders. The Finn slowly crawled down from his haven and drew his sword, finally gaining the use of his right arm again.

Suddenly the stench of blood reached his nostrils, a whole lot of blood. To find its origin Tino turned around and was met by a green-eyed male holding a knife. A knife that he forced into Tino's flesh right above his collarbone. It was the assumedly dead axe man – Kirvesmies was his new name – who was beyond furious. While Tino was gasping for air as Kirvesmies sadistically twisted the knife around he hurriedly pushed him away with all that was him and the knife left his collarbone.

His attacker was badly hurt and therefore vulnerable. It was obvious that his senses were impaired as the push made him stumble and fall to the ground. Tino hardened his grip of the sword and raised it, ready to kill him. The stranger looked up at his face. He seemed angry but his eyes were scared. Tino sighed and lowered the sword. His eyes travelled aside, as he now feelt quite ashamed. "I don't _want_ to kill you…"

"You shoulda thought of that earlier!" he snarled, indicating his injury.

A sting of guilt reached Tino's heart but he hid it well to not show any weakness. "It wasn't lethal…"

"Maybe not, but slowly letting me bleed to death was obviously fine!"

Tino rolled his eyes. "You'll be fine. Just put some pressure on it…" He wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or not – after all, his intention _had_ been to kill him, and he had always been a bad liar so hopefully that was the case here too. At the moment he truly didn't want to kill anyone, even if this man and his companions had come without neither invitation nor warning all on the same day and made a mess on his land. With nothing more to say and without any more business with Kirvesmies Tino turned on his heels and started jogging off from the hurt man. His one and only goal at the moment was to find Herra Sininen and so he decided that he didn't have any time to be bothered by the open wound in his poor collarbone or attend men who had tried to kill him.

Running quickly without making a noise was one of his specialities. Usually it would include climbing up trees and hiding behind rocks as when he been luring Herra Sininen around in circles. It was easy for him to confuse anyone if he just wished for it. At this moment there was no one to confuse _that he was aware of_ and for that reason alone it was simple to decide that he should take weird turns, hide and climb trees as if he was only running around madly.

After just a short while it seemed okay to assume that no one was following him – or at least had lost track of his as well as their own whereabouts – but something made Tino freeze up in the tree he had just climbed up. There was a scream, a deep scream that made the Finn instinctively try to locate its owner. He moved to the other side of the stem and sat on a branch that seemed as if it was ready to break. However, Tino didn't pay attention to that as he had found what he was looking for. Not far from where he was perched he could see Herra Sininen half lying on the ground with an arrow in his leg. Three men were standing in a half circle with their weapons ready. Another man with dirty blond hair was squatting on a rock behind him. He had a huge battle axe resting next to him. "Oi, Sweden!" he called while getting off the rock.

* * *

Next chapter is the last! I hope anyone who reads this short story appreciates it so far!

Anyways, here are the translations. :D

**Translations:**  
_Herra Sininen = Mr. Blue  
Kirvesmies = "The Axe Man" (and "timber man"? Or something...)  
Yks (yksi) = One  
Kaks (kaksi) = Two  
Kol (kolme) = Three_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. It belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz. **

* * *

**Part 5**

'Sweden'? Was _that _what Herra Sininen was really called? He leaned forwards to hear better what the man with the battle axe was saying, heedlessly not minding the discreet cracking noises beneath him.

"…could come live with me", Tino heard him say. Sweden just sat still on the ground. Tino wished he could see his face but he could only make out his captor whose quite handsome façade probably was popular among the ladies. "You and that little one."

The branch cracked and a few seconds later Tino hit the ground with a loud thump. Cones scattered around him, Tino landing on a few of them as well as a thick root sprouting out of the ground. In the duration of one day he managed to yet again add injuries to his pale, otherwise neat skin. Whilst getting up on his feet he hurriedly tried to get away as much dirt as possible from the stinging scrape wounds and thanked every higher power that he hadn't broken anything. His hand travelled to the sword sheath and not a second later was he being surrounded by armed men pointing their arrows and swords at him. His hand gripped the handle a little tighter without really thinking what the consequences of a fight would be.

"Nah… wouldn't do that if I were you", said one of the men tightening his bow with the arrow ready to be fired at the Finn. Tino just glared at him with murderous eyes without loosening the grip of the sword.

"Don't be a fool", said another one who must have noticed how the fearless lamb among the lions wasn't ready to just give in without a fight. _Fearless but stupid_. "Just let go of the sword and come home with us. You must have noticed that only an id-"

He was cut off as Tino's blade cruelly pierced through his belly. Before falling to the ground he got the chance to catch a glimpse of the other men advance all at once to catch the boy that had most probably just taken his life. More than that he would never find out for the next thing he knew his vision blackened and everything was quiet. The determined Finn tried twisting himself out of the hands that were now strongly gripping his both arms. The man with the arrow was sitting by the side of his dead partner uselessly trying to 'wake him up'. Tino stopped squirming for a moment and looked at the two. Deep down inside he was sorry that he had to kill him but the others had left him no other choice. The grieving one shot a death glare at Tino. He grabbed his bow and rose. For a moment Tino was certain that he'd just earned a punch in the stomach or face and prepared for one, but no strike came. It was as if the anger of the captor had vanished. Instead he seemed completely indifferent, perhaps even sad. His face told one story but his eyes another. He told the other two something and suddenly the three of them were walking in the direction towards 'Sweden'.

It didn't take long for them to get there. The two guards – as Tino had now titled them – placed him standing next to the blond after tying his hands behind his back. With a glance upwards the Finn saw Sweden doing nothing but staring angrily at the leader with his head held high to not come off as submissive – he was taller than everyone, now that Tino thought of it. Without weapons and hands tied Tino wondered how he – they – would get out of this one. The others exchanged some words with each other in the unknown language and then the leader aimed his attention to Sweden and Tino again. "You were not easy to catch", he admitted. He wasn't angry or scornful, just amused in a way. Tino said nothing and aimed his glare in another direction, hating himself for getting caught. The handsome man continued talking, believing that the Finn was paying attention but his eyes had detected something else that was far more interesting than hearing the annoying voice of the intruder. (Tino could really come up with all sorts of names for this man.) Not until now had he taken notice of a red and white fabric attached to a pole that had been thrust into the ground. He didn't recognize this strange device and inspected it, trying to figure what good it did there. A piece of cloth on a pole? Why? The handsome one walked up to it. "I see you've taken some interest in this!" he said proudly, obviously interrupting his other speech without qualms.

"What is it?" Tino asked, trying to sound as indifferent as possible.

"This, my friend, this is _Dannebrog_. The flag of the Danish Kingdom." He held up the fabric for Sweden and Tino to see, the horizontal white cross on the red background now clearly on display. "Ingenious, isn't it?" he asked without expecting any answer. Something was off about him. He acted as if though they weren't enemies at all. As if Tino and Sweden weren't standing there with hands tied behind their backs, covered in blood and dirt. He didn't even seem upset over the fact that Tino already had killed two of his men (if Kirvesmies was dead, that was...) There was no way he didn't know.

"So, what say you, young man?" he asked and let go of _Dannebrog_, eyeing Tino with what was possibly the greatest grin he'd seen before.

So far Sweden hadn't said anything at all. Tino looked up at the man and noticed he was staring at him. Something died within the Finn. He was indeed frightening, especially up close when royally annoyed. Actually, even if he acted only annoyed, he _looked_ positively furious. Tino was almost going to squeak but hurriedly turned his head back to the Dane. "About what?" he managed to ask unable to control the evident nervousness his voice suddenly held.

The Dane sighed. "Not very attentive, are we?" he asked rhetorically. "I want you and Sweden here", Sweden tensed next to him but the Dane took no notice "to come live with me! Imagine the advantages! We'll be able to protect and look after one another. The benefits are greater than the disadvantages."

_Hardly, _Tino thought.

Disadvantage: Leave home.

"Mitä?" Tino said instinctively and a second later bellowed: "No!"

The Dane raised his eyebrows as if he had never before heard the word 'no'. Tino continued. "You just came here and force me to spill blood! We don't know you and-"

Sweden cleared his throat. Tino looked up at him. _Why is he so intimidating all of a sudden?_ he whined in his head.

"We've m't b'f're", Sweden explained and Tino had to focus and listen carefully to understand the words.

"You-you've met before?" he asked surprised.

"'nce."

"Oh..."

For some reason it was completely silent for a while.

"Either way…" the Danish man continued. "It seems like you two have no choice. A new power is growing in the East and you, little one, are the first one the Mongols will seize when they get this far", he explained a matter-of-factly. Tino felt uncomfortable being referred to as something that could and _was to _be seized.

"I'm not afraid." Which he wasn't.

"Little one, we caught you didn't we?"

_Little one this, little one that… _

The Dane nodded once to the guards behind Tino and Sweden and a few moments later the world went noticeably darker. The softest punch in the back of his head could have him pass out given his poor condition, yet the guard hit him extremely hard without taking that into consideration. Sweden fell down next to him, eyes closed.

Denmark sighed after seeing the two of them fall. He ordered one of the men to get their last man as he saw the last three returning, only to find out that one of them was not alive anymore. When the last one returned with another dead Dane Denmark picked up the smaller of the foreigners as well as his battle axe and then proceeded to leave together with his remaining men. The man with the bow had to drag Sweden since the nation was significantly bigger.

They left _Dannebrog_ in the vast eastern forest.

The End

* * *

Now I have finished it~ My friend suggested a sequel, but we'll see. For now I need to focus on school. It took me long enough to write this chapter and get it beta-read. xD

Thank you for reading!

**Translations:**  
_Herra Sininen = Mr. Blue  
Kirvesmies = "The Axe Man"  
Mitä? = What?_


End file.
